


Senbonzakura's Song

by junko



Series: Chasing Demons [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-11
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:23:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Renji starts to realize just how much chaos and destruction was caused by Aizen's betrayal and figures out just the thing to help his captain recover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Senbonzakura's Song

**Author's Note:**

> Josey (cetus), the last line of this fic is for you. You'll know why.
> 
> Also, I may need to write a humorous stand-alone piece about the Third Seats' group therapy sessions post-Aizen. For a bunch of characters who are mostly unknown and unnamed, they must have held the SS together by force of will.... and a whole lot of paperwork.

Under the house steward’s penetrating gaze, Renji felt like he’d just gotten busted stealing Kuchiki silverware.

“You, what?” Eishirō sniffed, his voice dripping with disapproval.

Renji’s cheeks were aflame. He had to clear his throat to repeat himself, “I said, I’m spending the night.”

A thin, judgmental eyebrow shot up. “You wish to be assigned a room?”

“Uh, no,” Renji said, still finding it hard to meet the steward’s steady gaze. He shifted his feet feeling like a schoolboy. What was up with this? Wasn’t Eishirō the one that showed Renji the funeral kimono? He’d thought they at least had a kind of uneasy truce about Renji’s relationship with Byakuya. Renji scratched behind his ear. “I figured maybe I’d stay in the master suite.”

“You did, did you? With the lady in the house?”

Oh. Now Eishirō’s attitude made more sense. The steward wasn’t all wigged out for Byakuya’s sake, but for Rukia’s. The worst part was the Renji sort of agreed with Eishirō. Everything was ten times more awkward now that Rukia was back at the estate. But, hallucinatory or not, Byakuya had sounded hurt that Renji hadn’t made good on his previous promise to return. So, Renji crossed his arms in front of his chest. He wasn’t going to back down on this. After all, he’d faced much more formidable enemies in the battlefield; he could stare down this one man. “Look, the captain asked me to stay. He seemed to think you’d take care of… things.”

“Indeed?” The steward sniffed, and then drawled, “You do realize, don’t you, lieutenant, that his lordship is quite delirious?”

“Yeah, he is,” Renji agreed. He gave Eishirō a wicked smile, “But you can’t deny that he’s wanted me in his bed before, can you?”

A long, drawn in breath hissed through the steward’s nose. Finally, it came out with a sigh and a very terse, “Very well. I will make arrangements. Do understand, however, sir, that you have set me a rather difficult task. The Lady Rukia is a restless sleeper. I have found her ladyship watching over her brother at all hours.”

Cripes. Renji shook his head. He couldn’t deal with all this right now. “I understand, but you’re the one who pointed out that Byakuya is better the more time I spend with him. Just… make this work, okay? He seems to think you’re more than capable.”

Eishirō’s bow had the air of defeat, “For my lord’s sake, I will do my best.”

#

Renji sneezed. The scent of plaster dust seemed to permeate the warm summer air. Walking through the tangled maze of the Seireitei on his way to the Fourth Division, Renji realized just how wide the chaos around Aizen’s betrayal extended… and how much collateral damage everyone seemed to have suffered.

There was hardly a street not under construction. The banging of hammers and the scrape of shovels echoed in Renji’s ears like a low-level hum, a constant noise in the background.

As he rounded a corner, Renji whistled under his breath. This particular section looked worse than Inuzuri. It was all rubble and dirt and not much else. Miserable, lost-looking people shifted through piles of stone that were once booming businesses and rich houses searching for anything salvageable. Glancing around, Renji felt compelled to help, but he saw a number of shinigami already offering assistance, including a giant fox demon.

Wait, what?

Renji blinked, his hand drifting to Zabimaru automatically. Why was no one freaking out that there was a super-sized yokai standing in the middle of the street?

 _Look carefully,_ Zabimaru whispered.

_You will recognize a kindred soul._

The fox demon must have sensed Renji’s eyes on him, because he suddenly glanced over. Their eyes met, and Renji felt as though he was falling into the liquid amber of the animal’s gaze. Renji held his breath. It was like those moments being caught in the nue’s frighteningly intelligent stare.

 _Yes, exactly like that_ , Renji realized, as he recognized the captain’s haori.

He found the courage to come over to Komamura then. The captain’s foxy face seemed to frown, as though he expected a challenge. In fact, his teeth showed just a little, as if wary of a threat. But, Renji removed his hand from Zabimaru and offered it to the captain. “You should let me buy you a drink some time, sir,” Renji said, as Komamura shook it hesitantly. “We’ve got some things in common.”

“Oh?”

Renji had seen Komamura’s bankai years ago at a demonstration. It was a gigantic orange-faced samurai, but it was clearly human—maybe it was an oni, but it still looked awfully human to Renji. Regardless, they were both demons with a human side. “Sure, you’re just on the outside what I am on the inside.”

Komamura seemed to consider this with a cock of his head. One ear turned backward slowly. “I may have to have several drinks in order to understand that, lieutenant.”

Renji laughed, “Fair enough, sir. I’ll bring a bunch of bottles.”

Komamura gave Renji a careful, closed-mouthed smile, and a slight nod, “I look forward to it.”

#

Renji was right; Unohana wasn’t letting anyone near Momo. But, the trip to the Fourth wasn’t wasted because Renji took the opportunity to visit with the soldiers from his division who were still in recovery. It was hard, however, to see scars on some so clearly made by Zabimaru’s jagged teeth. He currently sat beside Rin Wakayama, the Eighth Seat, and tried not to look at the nasty, deep, ragged cut on her shoulder—Zabimaru’s favorite place to bite. At least the nurses had assured Renji that she’d recover the complete use of her sword arm.

Renji cleared his throat, after a long uncomfortable moment, “I’ll understand if you want to transfer.”

“No,” she said quickly. “Captain Kuchiki is the best. I won’t leave him.”

Renji nodded. He understood that sentiment, “Yeah, but, can you work with me?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re still my lieutenant, sir? I mean, if you face tribunal, I’m a star witness, aren’t I?”

“Good point,” Renji admitted. He sat on a stool with his head bowed and his hands clasped between his knees. He looked up and caught her eye, “I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it, eh?”

Rin was still angry, and, despite her injuries, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. She turned her face away from him and frowned at the wall. “I never liked you. You don’t fit the ideal of ‘noble reason.’”

Ouch.

But he could kind of see her point.

Still, Renji didn’t feel like he needed to take attitude off an Eighth Seat. He stood up. “Right, I guess I’ll see you at my trial, then. I was going to apologize for that,” he said, waving a dismissive hand at her shoulder, “But then I realized you’re the idiot who couldn’t defend herself. Next time, try to remember half the shit I taught you and maybe you won’t end up with your sorry-ass in the hospital. Oh, yeah, and you can thank me later for only aiming to disarm, otherwise you’d be dead.”

#

Renji found the Third Seat of the Third Division standing in front of his former captain’s quarters looking shell-shocked. When Renji came up to ask after Kira, the guy didn’t even seem to hear him. “The Onmitsukidō is in there,” he said, his voice tremulous. He was clasping his hands, wringing them. “They’ve taken everything. They even went through my stuff. My private things! What were they looking for? I had no idea about any of this… none.”

“Uh, yeah,” Renji said, his eyes darting in the direction of the closed door of the captain’s quarters. It was eerily silent, though Renji thought, if he strained, he could imagine the sound of some movement beyond the rice paper. He certainly felt the heavy, cold, forbidding reistsu emanating from inside. He swallowed; Renji had to admit that punishment squad made him nervous as well. “I’m really sorry about all this, but is Lieutenant Kira around?”

“No,” the Third Seat said, his face as pale as a sheet. “They took him, too.”

#

There was a long queue outside of the First Division’s Lieutenant’s office, but Renji pushed his way to the front. “Oi,” he shouldered the door open despite the shouts of the people in line. “Why was Lieutenant Kira hauled off by Covert Ops?”

Sasakibe stood up slowly, his eyes narrowed dangerously. Renji could feel captain-level reistsu smoldering under the surface. Ah. So he had bankai, too. Well, bring it on.

“Why is this happening in secret?” Renji continued. “Kira’s already in a bad way. Their interrogation methods better be above board or I swear to god—“

But a heavy hand on his shoulder and an even stronger spiritual pressure stopped the rest of the words in his throat. He turned to look into the weathered face of the head captain, “Perhaps you should reconsider the wisdom of such a public display of threats of treason and insubordination, Lieutenant Abarai. Let’s speak privately of this matter.”

“Oh, uh,” Renji’s fire was suddenly subsumed by the quiet but massive heat in the Captain-Commander’s eyes. So, he snapped to attention, “Yes, sir.”

Renji followed Yamamoto down the long hallway toward the head captain’s office, suddenly aware of all the eyes on his back. Now he really felt like a kid in hot water. It didn’t help matters that this was already the longest conversation he’d ever had with the Captain-Commander, and it hadn't started out well at all.

Yamamoto held out his arm as though he needed Renji’s assistance. When Renji offered, the captain’s fingers were like an iron claw gripping his forearm. “Do I need to reconsider your status, too, lieutenant?” he asked in a low voice.

Renji’s eyebrows shot up. A threat? First thing? But, Renji shrugged, “It’s your prerogative, sir. I just want to know what the hell you people are thinking. Shouldn’t we be going for transparency right now? Wouldn’t a public trial make more sense?”

Yamamoto’s eyebrows waggled wisely, “Only if we can be assured of Lieutenant Kira’s innocence.”

Oh. That made a kind of sense. They were debriefing him privately now because wanted to know what they were getting into if they decided to pursue a tribunal. A public trial could backfire if the plan was to boost morale with a verdict of not-guilty and then it turned out they had another traitor in their ranks. However, the idea of those black-masked goons from the Second putting the screws on Kira made Renji’s blood run cold. “Okay, but what happens if he’s not? What if he's guilty?”

“Yes, yes, it’s a difficult dilemma,” Yamamoto said, sounding like a dithering old man. Renji could really only see the top of his scarred, bald head. “Public or secret? There’s been so much pain and betrayal; it might seem safest to quietly disappear the young lieutenant. However,” The head captain continued casually, as if they weren’t talking about covert ‘execution with extreme prejudice.’ “Surely, you’ve read the mood of the Seireitei, Lieutenant? Many people are desperate for a villain they can get their hands on, someone upon whom they can vent all their hurt and frustration. A public trial and execution might prove very satisfying. However, I very much don’t want that to happen to someone undeserving. Let’s let the Second do their job, shall we?”

Fuck. Gods help Kira if he was guilty of something. It sounded like the Yamamoto might just let the mob tear Kira apart. “But whisking him away like that, sir, and by those… guys? Doesn’t that just make him look guilty?”

They’d come to door of the head captain’s main office. Yamamoto finally let go of Renji’s arm. “It also keeps him safe from those who would make that assumption regardless.”

“Yeah, I suppose it does,” Renji reluctantly agreed. But, poor Kira. He’d endured Ichimaru only to end up being ‘debriefed’ by those scary-ass ninjas of the Second.

“Do you understand the complexity of the situation now, Lieutenant? Or do you need to come in?”

Renji shook his head. It was bad enough to have walked this far, he didn’t want to have to actually go in there if he could avoid it. That felt too much like being called to the headmaster’s office. “I’m good.”

The Captain-Commander laughed, “Is there anything else, son?”

“If it’s all the same to you, sir, when it’s my turn, just list up my crimes and mete out the punishment. No muss, no fuss.”

Yamamoto nodded. “I’ll remember that.”

 

#

Renji had hoped to see Hisagi yet this morning, but, as it was he had to run to make it back in time for his shift at the estate. When Eishirō showed him to the suite, Rukia looked up with a desperate sort of gleam in her eyes. She set the book she’d been reading down and scurried over to give him a hug, “Oh, Renji, thank gods!”

“What’s going on?” He let his arms wrap loosely around her shoulders and he took in the familiar earthy scent of her hair, but his eyes were on Byakuya. The captain didn’t seem to be any worse off. “Is everything okay?”

She stepped back from him and rubbed her face, “Oh my god, it’s been a crazy day. Okay, first I picked up the book that was on nii-sama’s bedside table and I couldn’t read it out loud. It was, uh… well, there were tentacles. It took awhile, but I finally found something I could read.” She pointed accusingly at the book on the floor like it had personally assaulted her, “And it was this horrible boring history of the Soul Society that’s been making me want to gouge my eyes out. But, every time I stop he starts… singing. It’s weird, Renji. It's totally freaking me out.”

“Singing?”

“Well, it’s more of a kind of humming, but it can’t be good, can it? Do you think I should call the Fourth? I thought about it, but it seems silly. Is singing a symptom of something?”

Renji shook his head. “Where’s Senbonzakura?”

“Wha…? What does that have to do with anything?”

 _Too far away,_ Zabimaru agreed with a rumble.

 _Yes, fetch them_ , the other hissed. _He needs their voices._

Renji headed instantly to the door. “Just hang on another second, Rukia.”

Rukia shouted after him, but he was already gone, on the scent of cherry blossoms.

#

Minutes later, Renji was crouched on a wall on the far side of the estate, frowning down at small, private courtyard garden. Senbonzakura lay on a low flat slate bench, almost like a stone altar, under a single cherry tree. The rest of the garden was a Zen pattern of pink-colored stone and sand, carefully raked into the shape of the sword’s guard.

To get to him without leaving Renji-sized footprints in the middle of the soft sand was going to take a precise leap onto the bench. Renji had already tested the cherry tree’s branches that he could reach. The tree wasn’t much more than a sapling and they were too weak to support his weight.

Filtered light through the leaves cast speckled light on the zanpaktō’s bare, broken blade. He could hear its soft, uneven music.

The same songs Byakuya was trying to sing.

Shit. Neither of them was going to get any better this far apart.

Renji was just going to have to go for it. He steeled himself and took a jump. Branches snagged at his hair and face, but he made it on to the stone. He thought the whole thing might tip over from his momentum, but he managed to grab the tree trunk and steady his feet and right the bench. Renji stood there with shaking knees, hugging the cherry tree, panting for a minute.

Then, he knelt down carefully. “I don’t know why you rematerialized so far away from him,” Renji rested an arm on his knee and looked around at the walled garden with no doors, “Except, this is obviously your place. But, if you’ll let me, I’ll take you to the other place you belong.”

He put his hands closer. When Renji didn’t hear any war songs or anything else he could interpret as a warning, he carefully picked up the pieces of Senbonzakura. The second the naked steel was in his hands, Renji understood. The music—it sang of shame. It had never known defeat, and was consumed by gut-wrenching, horrible humiliation.

 _No,_ Zabimaru whispered kindly, _there is never shame in defeat._

 _Not when you can learn from it_ , the second voice agreed, _And grow stronger._

"Yeah," Renji agreed. "The only shame is if you let it break you. You got to get back up and try again."

Renji set down the pieces momentarily, to pull his kosode off. Then, he began carefully wrapping Senbonzakura into it, while Zabimaru continued to murmur words of encouragement. Senbonzakura’s song shifted slightly—still wracked with guilt, but with a touch of hope.

By the time they were out of the garden and back to Byakuya’s suite, the music grew tentative and anxious. “Shhh,” Renji said, patting the blade where it was tucked under his arm, “It’s not going to be like that. He wants to see you. Trust me. Both of you are going to feel better.”

Rukia met him at the door, “Where have you been? What the hell happened to your uniform?”

“I found Senbonzakura,” Renji held out the bundle of his black shirt, as though to show her.

She recoiled in horror. “You stole nii-sama’s zanpaktō out of its sacred cherry garden? Are you insane!?”

“Byakuya’s been singing, Rukia. What else could it be?”

Rukia shook her head, clearly upset that she wasn't getting the connection. “I don’t understand.”

“Senbonzakura is always singing, although right now it sounds kind of like lyrical crying,” Renji explained, as he gently moved past her toward Byakuya’s bed. He knelt down and carefully lay the bundle on Byakuya’s chest. The captain’s hands instantly reached up to embrace the zanpaktō.

Renji couldn’t hear Senbonzakura’s song anymore, but Byakuya smiled slightly. Renji smoothed the hair from Byakuya’s face, and then sat back on his heels with a sigh. Turning to Rukia, he said, “We should probably give them some privacy, don’t you think? You want to go out to lunch or something?”

“Is this… are you sure? Nii-sama doesn’t usually mediate like this. He gets very twitchy about proper sword etiquette.”

Renji laughed, standing up to dust off his hakama. “Oh, I know. We’ve had plenty of fights about that, believe me.” He looked down at Byakuya, “I can set up something more traditional when we get back. But, I’ll bet you this will stop his humming. Hell, it might even stop the babbling, which kind of bums me out. I liked what we were talking about.”

Rukia shook her head. “Ugh, you would. It's disturbing to hear my brother... talking. And so much.”

Renji just smiled in agreement. That part _was_ weird. “So, you want to grab a bite to eat? Unless you need a nap or something, I could totally use some food.”

“Yeah, okay, just give me a minute to freshen up.”

Once Rukia slipped from the room, Renji bent back down to kiss Byakuya’s forehead. “I know it’s not your style, Taicho, but feels good, doesn’t it? You should try letting Senbonzakura be the strong one. You might enjoy not always having to be in control.”


End file.
